


Routine

by balter



Series: flowershop au [1]
Category: Attack on Space - Fandom, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Gen, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-08-25
Packaged: 2018-02-14 14:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2195064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/balter/pseuds/balter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rem likes mornings. He appreciates how regularly scheduled they are.</p><p>Except for <i>this</i> morning, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> All due credit to [themidnightpersona](http://themidnightpersona.tumblr.com) for sharing his [Rem headcanons](http://themidnightpersona.tumblr.com/post/94986154827/im-saving-you-by-sending-you-an-ask-what-are-your-rem) a week ago. This never would have happened without it.

Rem had always liked mornings. The hush blanketing the street, the sleepy creaks of his family’s house as he crept downstairs, the soft tint of red in the sky. It was all very peaceful. A few years back, the Axian had taken to watching sunrises from the rooftop during autumn, a thick sweater cushioning his fingers as he sipped strongly spiced tea. It was his own little tradition, one that he treasured apart from all the other things he followed to respect his family, his people, his King. Tea with a vibrant crimson-and-violet sunrise was his own.

Now, however, it was spring, and Rem got up early—the fourth hour—to begin preparing the shop. His great-grandparents had started the tradition of growing and selling flowers from regions all over the planet, and the row house they lived in had been converted between living space, greenhouse, and flower shop. Rem’s parents worked deeper within the city, making the flower shop his own responsibility.

He liked it here in the shop, nurturing things where he didn’t have to worry about the cruel eyes of others from the Academy. It was such a relief to have finally graduated from that place. He’d already enjoyed a year of freedom so far, though before he reached twenty-five he would have to choose a proper career. Hopefully he would get something in computer work. Whatever had the minimal amount of Axian interaction.

Their home was a creaky old place, but Rem had always found that comforting. He knew just which sounds were soft enough to keep from waking his parents in the early hours. Pulling a light sweater over his pajama shirt and hurriedly throwing an apron over that, he carefully made his way downstairs. He’d been up late with a tricky bit of programming the night before—in fact the past _three_ nights before—and as a result had only fallen asleep a couple hours ago. The store was always slow at the end of the weekend, however, so he’d have time to take a nap once his parents had left. No harm if they didn’t know, right?

Rem stepped outside, setting the quaint sign down on its allotted space on the walk, crouching as he used chalks to write the necessary _OPEN_ note and anything regarding special pricings. A romantic holiday was coming up, so bleeding roses and cerulean carnations were going to be popular. Rem embellished the sign with two-toned sketches of those flowers and a few others. It wasn’t a necessary addition, but he liked to do it. Customers seemed to like it as well.

The flowers in the greenhouse would be watered in another hour or so. Rem straightened up and lifted his gaze to the sky, turning a welcoming red as the sun continued its climb. An hour from now his father and mother would leave to work deeper within the city, and right afterward he would open the shop for the day. In the meantime, he had breakfast to make.

Hm, they were almost out of his father’s favorite type of bacon, so he would have to close the shop during the afternoon and buy more groceries…

“Hey!”

Rem panicked at the sound of another voice, stumbling back frantically. He knocked over the shop’s sign and ended up landing flat on his back. The person who had snapped at him was someone Rem didn’t recognize, a sturdy-looking man with ginger hair, fierce red eyes, and _scars._ He was wearing a running suit, black with red highlights.

“You’re in the way, dipshit,” he growled, easing out from his jog to stare down at Rem ominously. “If you’re just gonna stand there, get off the sidewalk.”

“I, I’m sorry,” Rem stammered, scooting away but too frazzled to think of rising up to his feet. He could tell at a glance that he was taller than this stranger, at least a little, and the jogger could take his stature as a challenge. A lot of short people did, Rem had learned. He had also learned that short people were especially terrifying.

“If you’re so sorry, get off the fucking sidewalk,” the jogger said, practically bristling with aggression.

Rem squeaked and rolled away, nervously moving up onto his feet. He nearly tripped over himself again as he picked up the shop sign and set it back in place. The jogger watched him for a moment before scoffing with open disgust.

“You’re kidding me. This shop is yours?”

“Um.” Rem glanced between the flower-crammed windows and the jogger. He made a nervous attempt at a laugh. “Yes? I, I look after it, anyway. Family business.”

“Pretty pathetic,” the jogger commented. “Those flowers are even more tasteless than you.”

With that, he turned and started jogging again, his face set in an expression that made Rem think he wanted the world to burn. As the other man rounded the corner at the street’s third intersection, Rem stepped back and sagged against the shop’s door, waving a hand in front of his face as he tried to calm down.

That was upsetting. It had upset his morning routine and had upset _him._ But, like most of the little hiccups in Rem’s life, it probably wouldn’t happen again. This area never got many visitors, and he preferred it that way.

The Axian went back inside his shop and turned his thoughts to frying bacon and eggs, daily schedules and shopping lists. He definitely, _most definitely,_ wasn’t thinking about red eyes and angry growls.


End file.
